Here and Now
by sapphire-child
Summary: A juxtapositioning of Charlie’s outlook on life and death at the beginning and end of “Tricia Tanaka Is Dead”. Sometimes all you need is a little bit of faith and trust in order to see yourself through the darkest of hours.
1. Part 01

**Title:** Here and Now 1/2**  
Characters:** Charlie, Claire  
**Genre:** angst**  
Spoilers:** up to and including 3x10  
**Original Post Date:**12/05/2007  
**Summary:** A juxta positioning of Charlie's outlook on life and death at the beginning and end of "Tricia Tanaka Is Dead". Sometimes all you need is a little bit of faith and trust in order to see yourself through the darkest of hours.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, not mine, not mine. Sigh.**  
Authors Note:** This is the angsty bit where Charlie is woeful – rest assured we will get some nice fluffy stuff in the second instalment of this fic. Which will be posted...soon?

* * *

The beach settlement had come alive again. 

Everyone was smiling, rushing forward in small clumps... Charlie held back quite deliberately, allowing himself only an indulgent half smile as Kate and Sawyer were welcomed back into the fold. Despite the crispness of the day and the joyful proceedings before him, he couldn't help but feel the terrible weight of the shadow that seemed to have been hanging over his head since the evening barely three days ago when Desmond had told him that he was going to die.

Charlie was undecided whether or not he was still in shock about the revelation of his imminent demise or not. A part of him was still in a state of stunned disbelief – he still had at least another fifty years right? How the hell could anyone die as young as he was?

But then there is also another part of him that answers that question far too readily with a resounding '_very_ easily actually'. He only has to look over at the sad collection of dilapidated crosses that mark the graves of the other young and fallen Islanders. Boone, Shannon, Ana-Lucia, Libby, Nikki, Paulo…

In retrospect, and hypothetically speaking, any of them could easily have been him. He's certainly cheated death more than once here. Maybe he _should_ have died in the plane crash, overdosed on heroin within the first week, had his internal organs squished to goo by a rampaging boar, been left swinging by his neck, gone mad from lovesickness and jumped off a cliff, been hit by lightning and drowned in the ocean and…and…

Why the hell has he lived so long in this bloody place only to be told _now_ 'it's been fun and all but your times up now'? It seems inordinately cruel also, to give him a chance for redemption, have it blow up in his face, have it all fall back into place and _then_ threaten to take him away from the one thing that truly matters to him now.

Some would call that ironic. Just like the song. Charlie just thinks its bollocks and he's been in a shitty mood but pretending he isn't for several days now.

Kate looks about as far away as the moon as Locke and Sayid gather her to them and begin to lead her away from the crowd, drilling her as they go. Something about her has changed Charlie thinks as he watches her stride along the sand with them. There's something painful, a secret hiding behind her hazel eyes that wasn't there before. Her eyes fall blankly on him for a brief moment as she walks parallel to where he's standing. Charlie wonders if she can see the same thing in him as he can in her but she just blinks at him once, vacantly and continues on her way.

Charlie turns his attention back to Sawyer who is still busy greeting everyone – the man of the hour again. He at least doesn't seem to have changed that much and in a strange way, Charlie is glad of it. Even in a crowd of smiling people, he still manages to look like he's alone.

That's exactly how Charlie feels nowadays – like he's tainted, like he doesn't deserve the fondness of the people he shares his life with. Sawyer seems to have the same disease that he does – but a lot more advanced. Sawyer doesn't seem to get lonely in his loneliness – Charlie just feels like he's drowning in it all the time.

He's just about to withdraw back into himself and painful, blissful, solitude when Claire comes running up excitedly from behind him, Aaron tucked hastily into her arms.

"I almost forgot about Aaron when I saw them!" she gushes breathlessly, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear as she beams up at Charlie. "I was going to go say hello to Kate but then I remembered and I had to run back to get him. Can you believe they all got back safely? It's amazing isn't it?"

Charlie grimaces at her choice of words and the way her free hand hovers lightly at his waist as she grins over at the sight of Sawyer being hugged again and again. "Not all of them got back safely Claire," he says pointedly. "What about Jack?"

Claire's face falls slightly but her smile comes back just as quickly and she takesa step closer to him, just enough to press herself into the hollow underneath his right arm. Charlie deliberately doesn't take the non-too-subtle hint and stubbornly keeps his hands in his back pockets even as Claire leans up against him and tilts her face towards his, that dazzling smile on her lips brightening her pale eyes. "Well yeah, but they'll go out looking for him properly now that we know he's still, you know, alive and safe and everything right?"

Charlie chuckles mirthlessly. "Oh yeah sure. Jack is alive and safe – with the people who hung me from a tree."

This time Claire's smile falls completely and she begins to look upset. The guilt kicks in immediately, even before she starts to speak. "Well there's no need to be so negative about it," she says reprovingly, shying away from him a little, as though his negative energy is going to rub off onto her. "What's up with you today?"

Charlie rubs a frustrated hand over his face whilst he thinks of a plausible lie.

"Sorry," he apologises finally, sighing. "I don't mean to be cranky or anything. I just… well I didn't sleep very well last night is all and…"

Claire starts to look guilty and Charlie feels even worse – if that's at all possible. "Oh...did Aaron keep you awake too? I'm sorry Charlie, he was just being so fussy all night and you know, I couldn't just keep seeing to him or he'd just have fussed all the more and…"

"S'ok," Charlie brushes aside her flustered apologies as he finally slips an arm around her shoulders and gazes down fondly at the culprit of his fall out story. "It's not really his fault after all. God, if I had you for a mum I'd be constantly demanding your attention too." The joke slips out without him even meaning it to happen in the first place, but then Claire chuckles and he is taken aback.

"You are terrible sometimes Charlie Pace," she chides him teasingly. "Absolutely _terrible_."

Charlie winks at her and tries for a roguish grin. After a moment however, he feels just how thin it's been stretched across his face and he can feel it growing becomes blander by the second. "It's just a by product of my natural charm I'm afraid," he says despairingly. "I just can't help my being so hopelessly attractive."

"Ohhh," Claire returns knowingly. "Like I just can't help feeling helplessly attracted to you – is that it?" her eyes are sparkling and Charlie…oh good Christ he just can't stand flirting with her. Not now when he feels like he's a stranger living his own life. How can he hold her and her son in his arms when he knows that he's nothing more than a body living on well after its soul's expiry date?

How the hell do you _do_ that?

There's only one person who can really answer that question for him and so Charlie smiles again, the blandness apparent from the offset this time, and gives Claire a quick squeeze.

"It is more than highly possible. Now if you can bear to let my handsome face out of your sight for a moment, I've got a hot date with a certain Scotsman."

Claire looks…disappointed? Yes that's definitely disappointment on her face, and hurt as well. Again. Charlie feels like somebody is stabbing him in the gut repeatedly with a skewer – a slower and more painful way to go than with a knife for sure. He wishes it was easier – that he could just _tell_ her that he's a walking time bomb of death but somehow he can't bring himself to do it.

It doesn't seem fair after everything else he's already put her through.

And so when her mouth droops, and she begins to voice her desire to spend some time together, go for a walk with just the two of them or something and since when was he such good friends with Desmond anyway? he conciliates his own wretchedness of heart with a soft kiss to her lips. Claire seems pleased by it, although not entirely sure of the motive behind it.

"I'll catch up with you later okay?" Charlie resolves. "I've just got something I need to talk to Desmond about first. You go enjoy a morning to yourself for once without me butting in all over the place."

Claire still looks uncertain until he bends to kiss her once again.

She sighs against his mouth and Charlie feels once more (and much stronger this time) the taint of death on his skin. It crawls like a thousand poisonous spiders, burrowing into the back of his skull, even as she presses up against him and into his mouth. He feels like he's siphoning his own bad karma directly into Claire's soul and he hates himself for doing it.

But at the same time he can't help but hold onto her even tighter in the wake of his own mortality.

Should a dead man be allowed to love someone as unconditionally like this? He doesn't think so. The fact that Claire and Aaron are full of more life than Charlie has ever seen before within two people doesn't help his resolve either.

With this thought, he pulls back, his skin prickling and Claire gazes up at him softly, her lips are beginning to swell from the pressure and Charlie wishes like all hell that he could linger here, in this moment, but he knows that he can't. Every second he spends with her could possibly be the one that could irreversibly damage her innocence and as much as he doesn't want that, he's loathe to let his hand slip from her hair (how did it even get there in the first place?) and his lips from hers.

"I'll see you later," he whispers, surprised at the lump in his throat as they part ways.

As he heads slowly to Desmond's shelter there is more than one thought on his mind but only one of them has been playing in an infinite loop which has been running for days now. Different metaphors belie the same question and the same answer every time.

If the dead are better off with the damned as he's been led to believe – and if he's destined to die as he's been led to believe, then why the hell does he keep coming back to Claire as though drawn by some invisible magnet?

_Because, you're not ready to die yet Charlie – you're not ready to the emptiness and loneliness that will accompany your departure from this world. Because you know that your days are numbered, because you're counting them down one at a time. Because you love that girl and her child more than you could ever possibly express in words and you want to love them as much as you can before you…_

His chest swells with emotion as he comes up from behind Desmond (So when's it gonna happen?) and he's surprised at how angry he feels when the man denies him the answer he wants.

Desmond can see his future – he knows he can – and as long as it's an uncertainty, all Charlie has is the here and now.

And he's beginning to realise that he doesn't want to waste it anymore.


	2. Part 02

**Title:** Here and Now 2/2**  
Characters: **Charlie, Claire**  
Genre:** fluff, flangst**  
Spoilers:** up to and including 3x10**  
****Original Post Date:** 15/05/2007  
** Summary:** A juxta positioning of Charlie's outlook on life and death at the beginning and end of "Tricia Tanaka Is Dead". Sometimes all you need is a little bit of faith and trust in order to see yourself through the darkest of hours.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine, not mine, not mine. Sigh.**  
Authors Note:** So this is the fluffy bit where Charlie is all hyped up on his victory and much sweetness ensues when he returns home to Claire.

* * *

Doing burnouts was enough to make anybody giddy Charlie thought.

He was more than certain that his appearance was a testament to this aforementioned feeling of giddiness - his face was still flushed and his hair still rumpled from his earlier near-brush with death that had somehow turned into the most fun he'd had since the golf tournament.

Amazing really how just hours ago he had been sitting on the beach by himself, utterly and miserably alone, ignoring and avoiding Claire (as well as everybody else), moping about, going over and over (and _over_) in his mind exactly all the things he wanted to say and do before he died and realising that half of them just weren't possible here.

Right now? He felt like he could quite literally take on the world, death prophecy or not. And his face – was that a smile on it? One of those smiles you just can't wipe off no matter how hard you try? Yes. Yes it was. And when he saw Claire, all curled up and taking notes from her astrology book, her face scrunched in concentration, his smile only grew wider.

He'd never mentioned it to her before but he really did love to watch her when she was reading. Her eyes would always be the first to change, narrowing so as to get a better focus on the words. Then her brow would begin to furrow, just enough for it to be endearing. The final stage was her lips and the way they puckered up into a pout – as though she wasn't pleased with the information that she was receiving.

The position her lips were in when she concentrated always made him want to kiss them. And now was certainly no exception. But he could tell from her posture that she wasn't looking for physical comforts right this second – and he probably stank of sweat anyway.

No matter. The latter simply meant he'd have a bit more persuading to do.

"Good afternoon!" he called out as he got closer and she glanced up, startled out of her study. The sun instantly blinded her and she squinted against the sharp glare of afternoon sun, shading her eyes from it as her face split into a grin to rival his.

"Hello to you as well," she giggled as he waddled the last few steps into her shelter and flopped down onto her bed stiffly, making a big show of his aching knee joints. "What's happened to _you_?"

"What d'you mean what's happened to me?" Charlie said airily.

"You're _bouncing_," Claire said very seriously, as though it were some sort of crime to have so much energy. "Did you eat some jumping beans or something?"

Charlie laughed. "Nope," he shook his head, trying to suppress his grin. "No jumping beans for me. Just way way _way_ too much adrenaline for one day." Claire watched, bemused as Charlie put his hands on his knees and leant forward to stare at her, suddenly serious. "You would not _believe_ the afternoon that I've had."

"Is that so?" Claire played along, still shielding her eyes from the sun, grinning but trying not to at the same time.

"To be honest I'm surprised that I'm still alive," Charlie continued. "I should have had a heart attack after this much excitement."

Claire laughed and Charlie felt it fill him up. He took a moment to grin at her and then began to relate the afternoon's events, his gestures getting wilder and wilder as he went along. Claire listened rapturously, laughing in all the right places and occasionally shaking her head in amazement.

"You are _so_ lucky that you didn't crash," Claire said, awed when Charlie told her how they'd gotten the van started. "Not that it would have mattered – if you'd died I would have killed you."

Charlie's brow furrowed. "Isn't that a bit of an oxymoron luv?"

"It's an expression," Claire raised an eyebrow in warning. "And also a non too subtle hint that I don't like the idea of you and Hurley crashing about the jungle in an antique car."

"Okay well number one, its certainly not an antique and it's more like a van than a car really, come to think of it..." when Claire continued to look unimpressed Charlie sighed dramatically. A joke was clearly in order. "It's more like…you know, one of the shaggin' wagons from the seventies." Claire blinked and then next moment had burst into a cacophony of giggles.

"Number two," Charlie continued on, grinning cheekily. "We were not crashing through the _jungle._ We were doing burnouts on a big patch of grass."

"Burnouts." Claire repeated, looking faintly worried.

"Burnouts." Charlie confirmed.

"You guys were doing _burnouts_."

"That we were."

Claire rolled her eyes. "Boys."

"Well hey, at least I didn't drink any of the beer they found," Charlie said in an offhanded manner – knowing full well that Claire was about to panic on him.

He was right, Claire looked positively alarmed and actually sat forward, discarding her book and putting her hands on her knees to mirror him. "You guys found _beer_?"

"Yep," Charlie said casually but when Claire continued to stare at him, mouth hanging open in disbelief he decided he'd better put her out of her misery. "I didn't drink any though – Sawyer and Jin had a regular little party but Hurley and I stayed well away from it. It's probably completely toxic by now – its been out there in the jungle for about twenty years. I'll be surprised if Jin and Sawyer aren't throwing up all night from alcohol poisoning or something."

Claire leant back, somewhat appeased. "Well thank God for that. I don't need you to go and die on me anytime soon."

"No," Charlie agreed (privately pushing back all thoughts of Desmond and prophecies and all manner of miscellaneous catastrophes) and shuffled up until he was sitting next to her (Claire budged along quite obligingly) and leant back against Claire's cushions. "So what's been happening in the world of the beach dwellers?"

"Not a lot admittedly," Claire sighed. "Kate's run off into the jungle again – to go rescue Jack apparently. I'm pretty sure Sayid and John followed her."

"Well," Charlie amended. "Kate's a big girl. She'll be okay."

"Mmmn," Claire blinked languidly, the corners of her mouth touching at the beginnings of a smile. "Apart from that there's not much been happening really. Except for Aaron pining for you all bloody day of course."

Charlie felt an up swell of emotion balloon underneath him. "He was pining for me?"

"Mmmn hmmn," Claire gestured down at her son, fast asleep in his cradle beside her and Charlie put a hand on her leg to steady himself as he peered down at the image of Aaron cuddling up to one of his t-shirts, sucking on it blissfully as he slept.Charlie lost himself in breathless giggles and Claire joined in after only a moment.

"He wouldn't shut up for ages," she explained breathlessly between giggles. "And then I was folding clothes, and I put a stack of your shirts next to him and he just reached out and he grabbed one! And every time I took it off him he started yelling it me so I figured, well he must be missing you so I ended up just letting him hang onto it…"

"That is far too adorable to be legal," Charlie laughed again and then quirked an eyebrow at Claire. "Just as well I don't mind a bit of baby drool huh?"

"Well," Claire glanced down at her son again then turned her attention back to Charlie. "With the way he's hanging onto it, I doubt that you're going to be getting that shirt back anytime soon."

Charlie sighed in a long-suffering sort of way and finally took his hand from Claire's thigh. "Well I suppose he can keep it then. Wouldn't want to deprive a lad of his binky now would we?"

"No we wouldn't want to deprive him of his binky," Claire agreed and then her face grew serious. "Just like we wouldn't want to deprive him of being able to see his daddy when he wants to."

There was a long moment in which Charlie's jaw dropped and hung slack as he stared at her. Claire stared back at him, her gaze flickering nervously as she waited for his reaction and Charlie made a concerted effort to shut his mouth.

He opened it again a second later.

And then he closed it once again.

He opened it one final time, still not certain what he was about to say (if anything) but then there was hand on his denim clad thigh before he could think, and almost before he had time to mumble a confused "Luv?" Claire had nudged herself right up close to him, pressed her lips up against his in a sudden and surprisingly hard kiss and his eyes were fluttering shut without any hesitation whatsoever.

Charlie gladly let her lead, surprised at how much her hands seemed to be moving. The one that was on his thigh was moving slowly (up and up and up…) but her other hand started off on his cheek and then pushed through his hair and then (as she deepened the kiss) her fingertips moved to graze the skin on the back of his neck.

A veritable plethora of emotions seemed to hit Charlie all at once as the reality of the moment finally caught up to him. This was the first time that they had ever kissed like this, with such ardour, and he was surprised to find himself lumbered with dual feelings of both awkwardness and inexperience. He was exceptionally glad that Claire couldn't feel the back flips that were currently taking place in his stomach. His neck had always been one of his more sensitive spots and somehow, Claire seemed to know it.

Or it was just coincidence. Whatever. He certainly wasn't about to start complaining.

Charlie began to respond to her properly then – if tentatively, but as soon as he did, Claire began to pull back, her face a deep shade of crimson.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, seemingly appalled with herself. "That was…I didn't mean to startle you or anything I just…" Charlie stared at her, unsure of where she was going with this. Claire took a deep breath. "I missed you today, when you were off doing stuff. And what I said before doesn't mean that I…I mean if you don't want to be…I shouldn't have just assumed that you want to…"

"It's okay," Charlie said hurriedly, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to. "I do."

Claire practically collapsed with relief. "Oh thank God. I had this awful feeling that I'd just completely stuffed everything up."

"Of course you didn't stuff it up," Charlie said reprovingly, leaning his back up against the cushion that made the header for Claire's bed. "That's _my_ job."

Claire didn't laugh but instead followed Charlie's example and leant back against the cushion as well. The two of them weren't looking at each other but even with their eyes cast outwards from the sudden awkward shyness between them, Charlie's hand still managed to find Claire's. Claire glanced down at his hand, almost surprised.

"I want this," she murmured suddenly, still looking at their clasped hands. "This…whatever we've got. You and me and Aaron. I'd miss not having you here – Aaron would miss you. But we have to go slowly." She turned to him imploringly. "Is that okay? I just – we have to let it do its own thing in its own time. I couldn't stand to rush everything and end up ruining it."

Charlie slowly turned his gaze to her as he thought (her eyes were soft and silvery as she watched him, most of the blue had been sapped from it by the afternoon light which was starting to fade from red to purple.)

He thought back to the mad van ride with Hurley and the others and the wild euphoria that had seized him when he realised that he hadn't ended up smashing into the rocks at the bottom of the hill.

He thought about the feel of Claire's lips on his only a few minutes ago – and all the things that were still unsaid between the two of them.

He thought of Aaron, asleep in his cradle, contentedly chewing on one of his shirts – the highest honour one could get from an infant.

He'd once thought that seizing the day meant doing stupid things that you knew you'd probably regret if you lived to see the next one. But now he was beginning to think that seizing the day was just taking a day one moment at a time, at your own speed.Charlie leant forward to kiss Claire's forehead – getting a mouthful of fringe for his troubles – before he pulled back and smiled at her.

"Okay."Claire looked utterly relieved and all of the tension seemed to fall out of her body as she let her head fall onto his shoulder and she curled her legs underneath herself.

Charlie thought about putting his arms around her but contented himself with leaning his head against hers instead, shutting his eyes against the late sunlight that was still washing over them.

They stayed that way for a long time, just holding hands, leaning against each other _(lean on me when __you__'__re__ not strong)._

Then Claire spoke.

"I guess while I'm making an idiot of myself I should say this too," she mumbled against his shoulder. "I didn't get to tell you this morning but I think you look very sexy without your beard."

Charlie grinned massively and – after a moment - Claire did the same, her face pressed up against his shoulder.

"Thanks luv." He murmurs in response. (And silently he adds. "It was for you.")


End file.
